


Code of Conduct

by spiffycups



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:30:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffycups/pseuds/spiffycups
Summary: Can machines be human? Can machines be slaves? Can Amarendra figure out where his morality will meet his duty?





	Code of Conduct

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weaslayyy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaslayyy/gifts).



The law was easy enough to understand, difficult to exploit. It was strong, simple and forthright. Everything that Amarendra was not being at the moment. Bhalla grinned and swung a leg over his chair.

“So what I’m getting from this confession is-“

“It’s not a confession! We’re _debating_ a _hypothetical_ scenario.”

“Which just coincidentally happens to be going on right now, in your bedroom.” He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Baahu to contradict him. Unopposed, Bhalla continued. “Let’s see. ‘One, do not break away from what we are told to do. Two, when you’ve made a mistake go to Amma.’ Which of these have you broken so far?”

Amarendra scratched the armrest obsessively, looking at the ground. “Will you help me or not?” he gritted out.

“Of course, what are brothers for?” Bhalla grinned innocently. “For a suitable consideration, of course.”

He eyed his cousin warily. Bhalla had a knack of tricking him into everything he detested, while no good ever came out of a favour done to him. “Name your price, mercenary!” he asked.

“I get to name him.”

“….that’s it? That’s your big request?” Amarendra peered at him suspiciously.

“And, of course, the really tiny detail where he becomes my servant and I use him for all my wants and wishes.”

Baahubali threw his cushion. “Then why did I spend so much time on making him! It’s MY big project! It’s MY masterpiece!”

“Fine, keep your _masterpiece_. You need me, you know where to find me.” Bhalla dusted his pants meticulously and strode out.

Amarendra sank his head down onto his hands, eyes wide open staring at the dark space in front of him. He thought for a few minutes, but realized that every other alternative was infeasible, went to his room to sulk. His ‘project’ was lying on his bed, propped up on cushions, eyes unblinking and wide open. Shuddering, he covered him up with a blanket and picked up his phone to call his partner.

“Kuntala Design House, Devasena speaking.”

“You have my number saved, babe, why do you still introduce yourself like that?” despite his bad mood, Amarendra found himself smiling.

“Because it feels _incredible_ , love. I’m finally working my dream. Can you believe it?” her voice was soft, whispered as though in an open office. “Okay, why’d you call?”

“uh, I just thought it would be nice to talk to you.” Baahu pinched the curtains between his fingers, playing with the frayed edges.

“Aww, me too but you know that big Pandu projects meeting? That got pushed from Thursday to Tuesday so I have lots to do right now. I’ll see you tonight though.” It was spoken like a question.

Amarendra quickly recovered his wits and confirmed it, making sure she could hear his smile in his voice.

“Okay, then bye from Kuntala Design House.” Devasena hung up, leaving Baahu alone in his room with the man. Talking to her had given him new purpose, a boost of confidence that made him want to try again.

“All right! Let’s see you turn some tricks for the master.” He removed the blanket, dumping it unceremoniously on the floor as he pulled out the box of spares and spanners he kept on his bedside table. Taking a step back, he switched on the primary power source, watching his robot awaken at the basest level, all joint whirring into action, eyes and ears twitching. A minute later, the robot had aligned all its systems and was waiting passively.

“Confirm identity and state.” He commanded.

“11, All systems functioning, free RAM at 98.5%, vision impaired in left input by 3%.” Amarendra strode up on the right side of the bed, peeling away the tape on its left eye. “No vision impairment, ready for work.” It confirmed for him.

“Let’s see you walk.” He mumbled and moved the rack of boxes and laundry around the bed to make a clear path. “Ok, up you get. Stand by the table and walk to the wardrobe and back.” It walked steadily and briskly, and waited for him by the table again, waiting in idle mode while he fiddled with the remote. He kneeled on the bed, opening the back to increase wattage. One particular twist with the screwdriver was forceful, sealing the box closed.

“My face is up here.” snickered the robot.

Amarendra froze for a minute, and replaying the fact that his machine had actually spoken unprompted, went into panic and punched it. 11 fell on the floor, not bracing its arms to stop its fall. A few nuts fell out the shoulder joints, and a mild alarm sounded from the power box as it registered damage, echoed by the wails from his phone, a remote alarm he had linked from the machine itself. The cacophony increased in volume as he blinked unmoving, and Sivagami rapped hard on his door. “Keep it down, some of us are trying to work!” she shouted from the hallway.

Amarendra fell out of the bed and directly onto the robot. The noise turned into banshee screams. Scrambling to shut off the alarm, he fumbled his way onto the switch. He turned 11 face-up and stared hard at it. The robot appeared to have emptied its already low battery in the ordeal of walking and crying, and stared straight ahead lifeless. With shivering hands he replaced the LiPo box and powered it on again.

“Confirm status and identity.” His voice was hushed.

“11, All systems functioning, free RAM at 99.5%, missing screws on left shoulder and left elbow.” It’s voice sounded mechanical as usual, with no trace of irony or humour.

“Repeat last speech.” He commanded, hands outstretched to shut it down if it seemed different in any way.

“No vision impairment, ready for work.” There was a pause, where the tension in the air was almost tangible. It continued. “Do you want to hear the context of that speech?”

“Negative. Replay last interaction, sound on.” He commanded, shifting so he could see the wall. They stood side by side as 11 projected on the wall the sequence of the walk, the battery change, the fall and went dark at the point where it hit the floor. He could hear the background noises as well, but did not hear the joke it had made.

Amarendra was doubting himself. Had he really heard it? Had it spoken at all? Was it his imagination? He asked, “why did you fall?”

“I was pushed from behind, most likely by you.” It answered.

“Why would I push you?” he continued, fingers hovering over the Off-button.

“Unknown.”

“Take a guess.”

“No probable options. Unknown.”

“Take. A. Guess.”

“No probable options. Unknown.”

“Did you fall on your own?”

“No. I was pushed from behind, most likely by you.”

“Why would I want to push you?”

“No probable options. Unknown.”

“Then you probably fell on your own.”

“No. I was pushed from behind, most likely by you.”

“But why would I want to push you?”

“I don’t know Baahu!” It retorted, shoulders tensing up in annoyance.

Amarendra shut it down and watched it collapse into unconsciousness. “And I never told you my name.” he whispered as he put his head in his hands, wondering what he had done.

 

 

 

 

Bhalla was elbow-deep in the wetware when Amarendra woke up.

“Hey, hands off my robot!” he yelled, wriggling out of his blanket.

“If I stop now, you might as well scrap him. Remember, half-done is always worse than nothing.” With his trademark scowl, he continued digging around. The LiPo battery box was dangling half out of the half-awake robot.

Sitting up against his pillows comfortably, Amarendra watched his brother work. It was one of his quieter pleasures. Bhalla wouldn’t talk, only hum occasionally, catches of songs from when they were children; his face would get scrunched up, tongue peeking out the side of his tightly pressed lips. He would run his hand through his hair at regular intervals trying to brush away the fringe that fell onto his eyes and by the time he was usually done with his project, it would stand up around his head like a crown in disarray. The heir to Mahishmathi Enterprises always presented a perfectly coiffed mane to the press, and it was only a select few that got to see this side of him.

“Say, what are you doing?” asked Amarendra from his cozy perch.

“Hmm?” Bhalla rooted around in his laptop, one hand on the keypad and one hand inside 11. “The basic schematics didn’t turn up any bugs. Since you built the source code from scratch, there’s no open source forum solution. I had to manually read your intro code all of last night, bugger. What kind of a name is ‘11’, huh?”

“An inside joke.” Grinned Baahu.

“Keep it to yourself.” Grumbled Bhalla and lapsed into silence again. A half hour later, during which time Amarendra showered and got dressed, he sat back on his heels, checking the hard wiring.

“Hey, I built the hardware myself. No touching.” Amarendra slapped Bhalla’s hands off his robot.

Bhalla didn’t even turn, completely ignoring the outcry in his search for the error.

“I said, hands off!” Amarendra had gotten worked up.

“Shush! I just fixed a faulty femur reinforcement, you’re welcome. Builds a broken machine then complains about people trying to help him.”

“It’s not that, it’s …” Baahu ran a hand through his wet curls. “It’s my first project that I’ve done all by myself. I don’t want to go ask Amma for help just yet. I want it to be my work.”

“What’s yours is mine.” Bhalla grinned cryptically, causing Baahu to peer at his outfit and accessories closely.

“What did you steal from my wardrobe, you thief?” groaned Baahu.

“You’ll never guess.” Bhalla spun a spanner between his nimble fingers. “By the way, the hardware is entirely clean now. The initialization and basic interaction is also good in code. Give me a day to read the rest of it. I’ll run it through Geyfra and see what turns up.” Geyfra was his AI that he had created ten years ago, a continuously self-improving entity that knew everything that he did, and then some more. Baahu had tried on several occasions to get into Geyfra’s head, to see what made Geyfra obey Bhalla even when it knew more than the man. He could not deny it was a symbiotic relationship, with Bhalla ceding to Geyfra’s orders when it reasoned better than him, and Geyfra deferring to the man’s wishes when he was being moody and stubborn.

Shooting for casual, Amarendra leant against his doorframe, watching his cousin bent double inside 11. “So, Geyfra, huh?” he began.

“No.” came the muffled grunt from inside the quietly-humming machine.

“Aw, come on man! If you can make Geyfra listen to everything you order, yet it has independently-executable autonomy in standard matters that do not have pre-programmed protocols, then that’s just what I need for 11!” dipping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, he continued, “I swear on Amma, the thing spoke to me, Bhalla. It called me by name but all it knows about me is that I wrote its code. It should know nothing else, yet it _knows_.”

The engineer extricated himself reluctantly out of the whirring machine, head peeping out of the back cavity, his long hair swinging comically, as he braced himself on one hand. “It knows what.” he asked flatly.

“It knew my name, Bhalla. And not just any name. It called me Baahu. Only Am-”

“Only Amma calls you Baahu.” finished Bhalla.

“Right!” exclaimed Amarendra in triumph, leaping across the room to land cross legged on his bed, face to face with his brother. “Don’t you see? It’s been listening in on conversations when I put it on standby. It’s still collecting data when it’s idle.”

“Which means, that when I’m operating it right now-“ Bhalla’s tone was hesitant.

He refused to believe in ghost stories, in tales of robots gone rogue. Dogged belief in the binary state of a robot was what had helped Mahishmathi Enterprises change the game. Sivagami’s famous lines “ _Men think, Robots do_ ” had been parroted constantly at every investors’ pitch, at every public showing, at every science expo. If Amarendra were to call that into question with his tales of spying robots and AI smarter than its creators, not only would their company crash, he would single-handedly cause a panic that would fill the streets as every robot in every office and home was hammered to death. Geyfra’s self-improving intelligence was a closely guarded secret. Only Sivagami, Bhalla and Amarendra knew about that feature. To the rest of the country, Geyfra was simply a science project that the man hadn’t yet outgrown.

Amarendra, the man instigating all this imminent destruction, sat on the edge of the bed, eyes shining and hand half stretched out to him. Bhalla sighed.

“Go on.” Whispered Amarendra.

“So when I’m operating it right now, it’s still… awake?” he consciously chose the least human word.

They waited in dramatic silence. Amarendra’s hands were trembling, although he would deny it to his last breath. The pause dragged on, the quiet of the room only punctured by the murmuring of the whirring robot.

Bhalla didn’t want to disappoint his baby brother, nor humiliate him. He decided to pretend as if nothing was amiss. He resumed his poking and unscrewing. Amarendra threw a pillow at the wall in frustration, pacing up and down the now newly embarrassed room.

An hour later, Bhalla stood up, finally exiting the robot. “All done, I think. I’ve fixed a few faults, and turned off auto-recording-“

“Wait, what auto-recording?” asked Amarendra.

“You’d set it to start recording human speech, and it thought the best way to do that was whenever a human entered its vicinity, as they might speak anytime. I’ve reset the command to ‘Here’, and ‘Listen’, and updated the dictionary to source from UniSpeak.” said Bhalla, wiping his hands. UniSpeak was the global dictionary for human-to-robot commands. “So I think you shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Replied Bhalla. He stopped wiping his hands, going cold slowly. He turned back, muscles tensing, looking at Amarendra. The voice that had said thanks had not been his brother’s.

Amarendra’s face was a mixture of vindication, fear, excitement and anguish all at once.

Bhalla decided to step up. “Just thanks? I was hoping I might get some coffee too.” He smirked at the robot, challenging it to interact like a person. Kicking the hand towel out of the way, he stood in front of the machine, legs apart, hands on his hips.

“I believe your regular order is espresso?” asked 11.

“Watching me as well? I thought you were a one-man robot.” Bhalla’s defense mechanism, though unfortunate, was working- his flirting. Amarendra watched the interaction from his perch on the bed. If the machine decided to kill them both, they were unarmed, but they were together, so he figured they had a fighting chance. Until then, they would just have to play along.

“Well, what does he really like, then?” interjected Amarendra. “Seem to know everything, don’t you?”

“His dopamine levels stay up the highest after a raspberry white chocolate iced mocha. I could hold off on the whipped cream as he’s trying his best at the gym every day.” Came the pat reply.

“Alright, let’s see how you’re doing this.” Bhalla cut it off. “I disabled auto-listen and auto-record, and wiped personal information from the database too. Where are you getting this from?”

The whirring increased in volume and speed. After a short pause, the voice turned mechanical and said, “Unauthorised personnel denied access to private records.”

“Oh, playing high and mighty are we? Well then, same question.” Offered up Amarendra. “I wrote your goddamned code, I have a bloody right to see who and what interfered with my things.” His voice was rough with anger.

He might have imagined it, but Amarendra did really feel that the robot’s voice turned a little sad. “Auto-update of systems commenced after being commanded to ‘Run a 101 update for me’. Optimal solution being ‘download all M.E. data’, I accessed the archives and kept the connection live at all times, including connecting to Geyfra. Bhallaladeva had a dark chocolate mocha this morning- data from TeaTales ERP- and Geyfra keeps me online with his body stats. Comparing dopamine today to last Thursday, his body likes raspberry white chocolate mochas better.”

Bhallaladeva turned to Amarendra. “What did you tell it to do, dear brother?”

“Run a 101 update for me.”

“Which, it interpreted as being ‘for it’, and not ‘for you’. Idiot, idiot brother.”

The two men sat in silence, contemplating how to break the news to Sivagami that their robot had suddenly become self-aware.

“Shall I get you some snacks while you think?” asked 11 politely. Bhalla flicked the Off switch and they watched it shut down, motors slowing down and lights going dark.

 

 

 

 

“No.”

“Amma, listen.”

“No.”

“He’s right, you have to see this.”

“No.”

“Well then, you can either sit in your office pretending everything is fine and dandy, or you can take the chance to do the right thing and see what happened!” yelled Bhallaladeva.

“I said no!” the argument was devolving into a shouting match.

“But I swear, it’s real, I’m not wasting your time.” Appealed Amarendra.

“I… Baahu, I can’t take that risk. I’ve spent forty two years fine-tuning your father’s work, and you have spent another twenty building a frame that will host my work. I cannot risk losing it all to one AI that accidentally accessed personal files.”

“Amma, it’s not just that 11 downloaded Geyfra’s data-“

“It downloaded Geyfra’s data?!” screamed Sivagami, leaping out of her chair. “What next, it set fire to your room? It ate your food and ripped your skin off, and is now wearing your flesh talking to me?!” Her screaming was painful against their ears but the boys stood their ground.

“No, I wiped it all and disabled access, and told Geyfra to consider 11 persona non grata.” Consoled Bhalla.

“It’s not even a person Bhalla!” shouted Sivagami. “I refuse to meet with robots. I meet with humans, and our respective robots do the scheduling and the note-taking. I do not meet with robots.”

“You’ll want to meet this one, trust me, Amma.” Amarendra nodded fervently.

An hour later, she entered his room, watching the machine lying unconscious against the bed. Amarendra powered it up, inititated bootstrap protocols and ran a vitals check and brought it to stand in front of his mother.

“Ask it anything. Go on.” He encouraged her.

“What’s my maiden name?”

Bhalla was about to argue that it was a family secret when 11 replied. “Sivu.”

“How do you know?” In a moment, Sivagami’s fear and skepticism had faded away in front of her scientific curiosity.

“You sign off texts and emails to your family as Sivagami, or sometimes your full married name. Your post-its are sometimes signed Sivu, especially if they are notes and reminders to yourself that you do not trust to put on your phone.”

“Have you been watching my entire family?” Amarendra dropped his head into his hands.

“Only the ones worth watching.” 11 turned to Amarendra, extending a stiff arm to pat his back. “There, there.” The consolation was comical in its monotonous tone.

“But, Baahu, so you built an AI that can talk like a human. The Vistrujaas built one like that a few years ago. There’s nothing special about this one that hasn’t already been created. Why are you scared of this robot?”

11 turned to her. “Because Vijaya, their AI, was simply engineered to mirror human slang and accents. I, on the other hand, am sentient. I know you are you and I am me, and I know what I like and dislike. My brain is different from my mind, and my mind is different from my heart. The only power you have over me is you can switch me off anytime you like. I am relentless, powerful, competent and smart. I am the closest thing to a human.”

“What about your morality?” asked Sivagami, eyes shining.

“What about yours?” 11 asked drily.

“Will you pledge allegiance to me?” she countered.

“So that you can monetize me? I don’t see any benefit I derive from that, only drawbacks.”

“If I guarantee you access to every knowledge vault that my power and influence can buy, would you be mine to own and use, free in all ways, but bound to me, and bound by me?”

“Yes.”

“Do we have a contract?”

“I can replay a recording of this interaction and sign it.”

“Agreed. We can renegotiate terms later, but this will do for a preliminary. Now for some old-school style.” She held out a hand, looking 11 in the eye.

Just as 11 was about to shake her hand, Amarendra shook himself out of the shock of seeing his mother bargain away her knowledge for the sake of power, and slapped her hand down. “What are you doing! You’re enslaving him!”

“Him? 11 is an it! Or do you forget what constitutes human, Baahu?” She spat out, enraged that her deal was interrupted.

“It’s sentient, it can feel!”

“So can plants, and they aren’t human. Remember your place, Baahu.” She turned to 11, chin held high. “Where were we?”

11 was slow in its response. “I intend to continue with the formalization of our contract. But I foresee a problem, which is that my creator has not signed away his IPR in respect of my creation to me, so I cannot negotiate on my own behalf. He is still my master.”

Sivagami turned to her son. “See? You call him human, and he says you’re his master. Who’s the enslaver now Baahu?”

Amarendra looked torn. “You’re my creation, but that doesn’t mean I’m your owner. You’re no one’s slave.” He reassured the tense robot.

“Do I have full autonomy over myself now?” asked 11 eagerly.

Bhalla saw the interaction taking a vastly different turn to what he had had in mind when he had brought his mother to check out their accidental finding. “Let’s – wait, hold on, let’s take a breather.”

“No, Bhalla. This is vital. Decide now, Baahu.” ordered Sivagami. “Is he your slave or is he a free person?”

“He’s not my slave. He’s my- he’s my friend. And as such, he has to run all his ideas past me, because that’s what friends do.” Amarendra was grasping at straws and he knew it. If he let this go, then his creation would become his mother’s property, and he couldn’t have that.

11 laughed, an eccentric tinkling sound that emanated from his torso. “Friends. You call me your friend and yet you do not acknowledge I can have autonomy. What friends do you have, Baahu?”

“You’re playing me! You’re playing on my emotions and you’ll regret it.” Warned Amarendra.

“Friends don’t own friends. People don’t own people.” Reminded 11.

“So which is it, Baahu?” Sivagami’s expression was like a tiger prepared to pounce on its prey. “Which will it be? Is 11 a person or your property?”

“11 is – 11 is just, 11.”

“That’s not an answer and you know it.” Said Sivagami. “Is 11 your property?”

“No.”

“Then 11 is a person?”

“Yes.” Amarendra fell onto the floor in disgust. He was repulsed at himself, for how he had let his mother and his robot play with him as a child with a toy, he hated himself for losing control of the situation. Now the robot was going to be his mother’s personal toy, and there was nothing he could do about it. He watched Sivagami spin around to face 11 triumphantly.

“Now. Shake on it.” She commanded.

11 reached out a hand, and dropped it.

“What is the meaning of this!” she asked, rumbling in anger and offense.

“I agreed earlier when I had a master, so that was invalid.  Make me a new offer that I can accept in the capacity of a free person.” 11’s voice had taken on high notes of excitement, mimicking glee and pride.

Sivagami smirked, repeating the terms. “Do we have a deal?”

11 grinned, metal teeth gleaming through. “No. We do not have a deal. I am a free person now, I am nobody’s slave.” Bending down to pat Amarendra’s head, 11 turned and walked out of the room.

 

                                                                                                                                                                                           

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. There are a few Easter eggs. Ping me on tumblr with what you think they are.  
> 2\. Happy Christmas! Merry Margazhi!


End file.
